Taking Matters Into Your Own Hands
by lovesmesomebooth
Summary: Nine year old Harry has had enough unanswered questions. His dreams fuel him to set out and discover his past himself. Will he find the answers he searches for?


**This is a prequel of sorts. I haven't yet managed to write out the story that follows, but there will be one. This is my first jaunt into the wonderful world of Harry Potter and I have learned my lesson. I will only post things when they are complete. I am still working on my Bones stories, but it is slow going. I've decided to not post updates on it, or any new stories I'm working on until they are done. I don't count this because this particular piece is complete. Happy reading everyone!**

It happened for the tenth time in fifteen days. Really, it should be nights. He couldn't really remember the dream in its entirety, but there was always a strong feeling of warmth and a gentle pull to a place called Godric's Hollow. The first time it happened, he shrugged it off as his imagination making his dreamscape much more welcoming than his real life. The fourth time it happened, he didn't even notice when he spilled gravy down Dudley's shirt for he was so lost in thought. The sixth time it happened, he actually behaved himself and did extra chores to get his aunt into a good enough mood to ask if she knew what it was. He was promptly thrown into the cupboard without a word spoken from her, though her eyes held what he could only count as fear. The ninth time it happened, he was fortunate enough to be left home alone when the Dursley's went out to celebrate Dudley getting a participation ribbon at the science fair. He smiled and began cleaning as they berated him and told him to make sure the house was clean enough to eat off of before they came home, and no funny business or else! He waited as their car pulled out of the drive, still dusting the mantel. After all, he had the best place to watch the taillights from by standing there. He even waited an extra ten minutes to ensure they didn't double back and try and catch him at something. When he was satisfied they were truly gone, he made his way up the stairs. Though Aunt Petunia never uttered a word when he asked her, her fearful eyes kept darting to the ceiling. He had seen the little string hole in the funny part of the ceiling in the upstairs hall for as long as he could remember. Oddly, he never cared what it was or what it might lead to; until Aunt Petunia kept making eyes toward the ceiling. Harry had been in every square inch of the house cleaning, and that was the only thing he had never paid attention to.

He quietly drew Dudley's computer chair out of the boy's room and stood it directly under the back left corner of the ceiling in the hall. He had to jump four times, but he was finally able to get a hold of the tiniest piece of string and with his downward momentum, the piece of wood came down with a bang. Attached to the wood was a ladder, and the extension rungs pulled down to meet his feet. He waited a full three minutes to ensure his supposed family weren't waiting for just that thing to happen and come through the house yelling. He attentively climbed the rickety wooden ladder and pulled yet another string to turn on the lights. The attic was bare except for a lone box at the very back, shrouded in shadow. Harry cast one last look down and slowly inched his way toward it. The box was rather small, perhaps a tad larger than a shoebox. Across the top was a faded word. Lily. Seeing the name spelled out made his heart wrench and something in him made him pull the box to his chest and hold on to it forever. He made his way back to the hole and pulled the light string again. He carefully pushed the ladder back up and climbed the chair to push it back the rest of the way, ensuring the piece of wood went back with it. Once he was sure everything was back the way it was before, even Dudley's chair, he put the box in his cupboard and hurriedly attacked the cleaning. It wouldn't do for his relatives to come home and the house not be as clean as he could make it, though it would still not be to their standards.

It was that fifteenth day, and the tenth time he had the same dream that he had had enough. He was being yelled at more than normal and he couldn't shake the feeling of knowing there was something about him that no one was telling him. He figured the dream came that last night because he had read several things in the box. There was a picture of a two story house with a stone fence around it. Harry flipped the photo over and found writing in purple ink. _Our First House, Godric's Hollow, West Country, England._ He smiled and felt the same pull and warmth as in his dream and knew it was time to leave. He doubted anyone would notice save for the fact the house would be less tidy than usual. He stayed that last day and treated it like any other day. He made sure to be up and cooking breakfast before anyone told him to. He immediately set to cleaning the kitchen and dusting the sitting room. He was able to nap during midday because the house was empty, but was sure to start dinner in time as to not get caught. It was when the first sounds of snoring was heard through the vents in his cupboard that he grabbed the blanket that refused to be rubbish -much to Aunt Petunia's irritation- and secured the box in it. He tied the bundle to a stick and set out on his own. He stuck close to the shadows for as long as they were there. He could only hope that his heart was leading him to the right place.

He was shocked to realize that no one took to noticing a nine year old child wandering the streets alone. He could understand it at night because most were home, safe and sound. The ones that were not didn't care one way or another about a kid wandering the streets. It was the daytime crowd that made him actually question humanity, though he was grateful for the anonymity. At times, he felt he was invisible. He would find places to snatch food or nap during the day, but he kept most of his footwork to the darkness. It was easier for him to get around, and he didn't have to wonder needlessly about being caught. He was pleased to find that on the second instance of daylight he found signs directing him to Godric's Hollow. He was terrified to talk to anyone, so he continued on and followed the signs. He kept his pace, only slowing to find suitable means of food, and was determined to be at his destination by the following evening. There was one occurrence that had him questioning his own sanity, and that was when he was looking at a sign that directed Godric's Hollow to the west. As he walked up to it, a gentleman to his right was quite insistent about his coordinates.

"It clearly states that Burnham-On-Sea is west, but the map says it's east. Oh bugger, I knew I shouldn't have bought this blasted thing!" The man promptly balled up the map and tossed it into the nearest bin. Harry looked from the man's retreating from to the sign.

'_The sign mentions only Godric's Hollow. What was he talking about?' _With a shrug, Harry walked after the man, ensuring to keep his steps slower so as not to appear following. He made his way through the streets and began to get fidgety when he started to see more country than roads. He knew he was close, he only hoped what he was looking for could be found. He found an abandoned barn and decided to rest his weary body in hopes that when night began to fall again, he would be at his destination. As dusk settled in, he rose and stretched himself in all different manners, trying to ignore the fluttering in his belly. He had no way of knowing that the Dursley's thought of his sudden disappearance, or if they even knew. He just had to find proof of his life before them. His first steps away from the barn were shaky from anticipation and he picked up his pace to work through it. By the time he reached the outskirts of Godric's Hollow, he was certain he was going to retch, laugh and cry all at once. He was home. He took deliberate steps through the town, apprehensive and terrified to find that now familiar building. He came to the center of the square and saw a statue. There were a couple of people standing nearby, and Harry was sure they had just left the pub.

"Come _on_ Michael! I swear, this obelisk is near falling over! Give me a hand and we can knock it completely down!"

"Honestly Sammy, I told you not to order that last pint! That thing is solid as stone and is most certainly _not_ going to simply fall over at your touch!" They both wobbled in the opposite direction from Harry and he shook his head. '_An obelisk? I see a statue of some sort.' _Harry walked closer to the statue now that there was no one around and as he made out the figures, he saw the plaque underneath and nearly lost his footing. It was _him_ on that statue! And those must be his parents! He tentatively reached forward and let his hands brush the leaves that had gathered. He knew his house was close by. He looked into the empty, stone eyes of his parents and whispered, "I miss you." He set his jaw and walked away without looking back. He didn't want his parents, though they were made of stone and not real, to see the tears in his eyes. He walked down the lane and knew in an instant that the last lone house was his own. It looked terrible in the moonlight, and he knew it would look much worse in the day hours. The second floor was half torn away and everything was completely overgrown. He placed his hand on the iron gate and looked at it properly. There was writing all over it. A sign was hung over the topmost bars stating that the place was now a relic, a tribute to the Potters and a mark of their faithful sacrifice in the name of good. Harry smiled at some of the writings that adorned the sign. _Baby Potter for President!, Way to show old Voldy, Harry!, RIP Potters, you will forever remain our hearts! _Harry had no idea what Voldy was, but the support was welcome nonetheless.

He nearly opened the iron gate, but a rustle in the Autumn leaves caught his attention and it was then that he noticed the cemetery off to the side. He suddenly had a feeling that this would be precisely where his parents would be buried and headed in that direction. The kissing gate opened soundlessly when he stepped in front of it and with a heavy heart, he walked through. He found various headstones with oddly sounding names as he meandered through the cemetery. He spotted a tree a little ways ahead and thought that that would be a nice place for a final rest. He walked on quiet feet toward it, still reading names and dates off of the headstones he passed by. It wasn't until he was mere feet away from the tree when he noticed a figure. The man was dressed in all black and had a hood over his head. Harry knew it was a man by the deep, silky smooth voice. Harry hated to eavesdrop, especially on such a private moment, but some of the words caught his attention.

"…know Lily. Every year for the last seven and it's almost for naught. I never told you then, and telling you every time I come here is almost pointless, but a part of me believes you can hear me, my angel. For that is all you could ever be to me; an angel. I stood by and let Potter have you and that was the second biggest mistake of my life. It was noble, sure. But I should have been selfish. I'll never forgive myself for not…" Harry had tears streaming down his face and was so enthralled by the man's heartfelt words –words to his mother no less- that he didn't even notice when he dropped to his knees and cracked a stick, breaking the sorrow-filled silence. The man swung around and pointed a small stick in Harry's direction and blinked a few times. Harry realized he was kneeling on the ground and moved to stand up, his arms at shoulder height, palms out showing he meant no harm. The man continued to blink in his direction and then cocked his head to the side as if he was unsure of what he was seeing.

"I apologize, sir." Harry's voice was so low that it was like a whisper on the wind. The man stood even more rigid and narrowed his eyes at the spot where Harry was standing.

"I suggest you show yourself unless you would like to become a permanent resident." The voice was the complete opposite of the tone he was using when he was speaking to the headstone and Harry shivered nervously. The man sounded like he wanted to kill, and Harry had no doubt the man would follow through on the threat.

"Please sir. I am no threat, just a boy. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was simply looking for my parents." As Harry spoke, the man's face changed from an evil sneer to a look of shock as Harry's silhouette came into view, and then back to a sneer, though a little less intimidating.

"And why should a boy your age be playing about in a cemetery? You should be hounding the neighbors for sweets the way you lot go about on this day. Leave me in peace and search for your parents elsewhere!" The man turned and Harry took a deep breath, but didn't move.

"Sir, I don't think you understand…"

"I understand perfectly well you miscreant. You mean to get a scare by roaming a cemetery at night, but this is not the place for that. Go now before I carry out my threat!" The man never turned back to face him, and Harry was even more fearful than when he could see the man's eyes. The tone of voice was so frightening, but he refused to leave. He came all that way, after all. He was going to see and talk to his parents. As it stood, he could make out the basic shape of the headstone, but that was all. The only reason he knew they were there was because the man had mentioned both _Lily _and _Potter_ as he was talking, and it couldn't have been a coincidence.

"Sir, those are my parents." Harry was pointing toward the headstone in front of the man, hoping that his rushed words and pointing made the man see reason. He could see the man's posture grow even more rigid and he gulped as the man slowly turned around to face him.

"What did you just say?" His sneer was downright frightening, but Harry stood his ground. There was no way he was going to be convinced to leave.

"Sir, they are my parents. Lily and James Potter. I am their son Harry. I'm Harry Potter." He was rambling and the awkwardness of the situation almost led Harry to put his hand out in greeting; not that he thought the man would shake it.

"How did you get here?" The voice was low and calculating, almost daring Harry to lie.

"I walked, sir."

"I'll have no cheek from you, brat. Where are your guardians?" The man whipped his head around so quickly his hood fell from his head. Harry could see long black hair flapping with the movement.

"They are not here, sir. I walked. Alone." Harry saw the man's eyes narrow as he muttered under his breath; something along the lines of, _'Walking from Surrey, but of course. Just as a hippogriff has no flight feathers.' _ Harry briefly wondered what a hippogriff was, so he completely ignored the fact that the man knew he walked from Surrey. He was still contemplating the hippogriff when suddenly the man was standing before him with a hand stretched out. He took Harry's jaw in his left hand and tilted Harry's face into the stream of moon light. With his right hand, the man brushed aside Harry's fringe to reveal the scar. Satisfied Harry was actually who he said he was, the man stepped back to the headstone and spoke a few more words, though so low that Harry couldn't catch them.

"You have five minutes to say your peace." And like a shadow, the man disappeared though Harry was sure he was still around. He didn't want to call the man's bluff, so he quickly turned and faced his parents' graves. Now that he was in the situation, he wasn't sure what he should say.

"Hi mum, dad. It's me. It's Harry. Gosh this seems silly. There's so much I want to tell you, so much I want to ask you but I can't seem to find the words. I miss you terribly, though sometimes it feels like you're just my imagination and that you were never real. Though you would have to be real for me to be real. Aunt Petunia never mentioned your name, and I learned early on that I couldn't ask about you, about either of you so I don't really know anything about you. Mum, I hope you weren't as awful a person as Aunt Petunia, though if you were I would love you anyway. I would take a day with you acting like her any day if just meant I could see you. I have a dream sometimes about this place. Not the cemetery, but Godric's Hollow. That's a funny name, don't you think? I've had a dream about the house many times now. I've only just now seen it. I bet it looked great when we lived there. I wish I could remember. I don't really know what I expected to happen now that I've come here. I walked from Aunt Petunia's house you know. I hate it there. They hate me and I would take living anywhere over it. Maybe I could fix up our house. I know it's a memorial site and all –though I don't know what happened- but I mean it _was_ my house. Maybe it still is. I could do odd jobs around the neighborhood and save the money and fix up the house. This way I will always be close to you guys. Well, it is getting late. I guess I should find a place to set up. There was a man here when I got here. He seems a little rough around the edges, but he really misses you mum. I'm glad to know you were loved." He ran his hand over the names of his parents and then he looked at the dates. He was a little shocked to realize that he came to that very spot on the very same day eight years later. He ran his fingers over the date and felt a warmth spread through him that made him feel like he was completely loved. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then turned around to leave. As he walked through the gate, he felt a hand place itself on his shoulder and he stopped dead cold. How could he have not paid attention?

"Not so fast Mr. Potter. You are coming with me." Before Harry could protest, he felt an awful pressure, as if he was being squeezed through a tube. His ears desperately wanted to pop and he was having trouble breathing. Before he could get into a state of panic, the feeling went away and he tumbled to the ground. He sat up and his head lolled from side to side and he blinked repeatedly to gather his bearings. When he looked up, the same man was standing before him, offering a hand up.

"Thanks." Harry's legs weren't as sturdy as he would have liked, but the man's grip on his arm prevented him from falling once more. When he was sure his feet were going to cooperate, he gave a brief nod and at once he had to scramble to keep up with the man's long strides. They passed through a rather large gate with what looked like winged boars set atop pillars. As they climbed the hill, Harry could see large turrets jutting out from the horizon and at the top of the hill; an entire castle came into view. Harry stopped cold in his tracks causing the man actually rear back from the force.

"Come Mr. Potter. It is much more impressive inside, I assure you." A slight tug had Harry once again jogging to keep up. He was glad the man hadn't let go of his arm because he would surely have stood on the hill just staring. The closer they got, the more magnificent everything seemed to get. All too soon they came upon the giant doors of the castle and as they climbed the stairs, the doors opened of their own accord.

"Wicked." Harry whispered it, but by the twitch of the man's head, Harry was sure he had heard. They continued their pace along an Entrance Hall and toward a magnificent staircase. Just as Harry started to stride towards it, his arm was tugged to the left and they began down a corridor. Harry's heart sank just a little at not being able to see more of the castle. He shook his head to try and pay attention to where they were going. It was a little colder as they took stairs down lower into the castle. The place was quite closed off and Harry felt some comfort in knowing there wasn't a lot of space for things to hide in. Because of his cupboard, he took some comfort in smaller, enclosed places. It made him feel calm and it actually soothed his frazzled nerves. The man must have noticed because his grip slackened, though he did not let go entirely. A couple more minutes and they stopped altogether. Harry continued to crane his neck and take in all he could as the man did much of the same, only he was looking for possible threats. The man pressed his hand upon a door Harry had not noticed until it opened. The man ushered him inside and then sat him on a sofa that was set before a roaring fire. Harry hadn't realized before just how cold he was until he felt the heat.

"I shall return momentarily. Please be so kind as to not touch any of my things. I will not be held responsible for your dismemberment should you not heed my warnings." Harry nodded.

"Yes sir. I will keep to myself." He had enough practice dealing with Uncle Vernon to know to keep to himself. Besides, the man had been almost nice to him. Nice compared to Dursley standards anyhow. Before the man left, he set a blanket on the arm of the sofa directly next to Harry.

"If you should need it, the facilities are through that corridor over there. Second door on the left." He pointed in the direction of the hall and Harry nodded once more. The man gave Harry a calculating look and then nodded. He went to the mantel and took a handful of what looked to Harry like ash. The man then threw it into the fireplace and when the flames turned green, he stepped in. Harry's eyebrows rose into his hairline and jumped up and before he could shout at the man to stop before he got hurt, the man called out, "Headmaster's Office, Licorice Wand." The man spun away and the flames died down from their heatless green back into the warming reds and blues. He sat back onto the couch in a daze. '_What had just happened?_' His arm found the blanket and he pulled it around himself. He toed his shoes off and curled into a ball on the sofa. He had been going non-stop for three days and it was starting to catch up to him. Between his exhaustion, the comfortable couch, the warming fire and the soft blanket, his eyelids began to droop and within minutes, Harry was fast asleep.

* * *

"Severus, dear boy! Come in, come in. Lemon drop?" Albus Dumbledore stood behind his desk and held out a silver bowl full of lemon candies. Severus shook his head.

"No thank you, Headmaster. Mind if I sit?" Albus waved his hand.

"Of course not my boy, please. Tea then?" With a wave of the older man's wand, a tea set appeared before them and he took a seat next to Severus. Albus handed Severus a cup of tea and leaned back in his chair with his own cup. He waited for the younger man to gather his bearings.

"Thank you, Headmaster, for the tea." Severus kept his head down and his hands wrapped tightly around the hot tea cup.

"Please, my boy, it's Albus." Severus nodded him off. "Did your visit go well tonight?" Another nod. He watched Severus take a deep breath and set his own tea cup on the table.

"I believe we have a situation, Albus." Severus set his tea on the table and placed his elbows on the arm of the chair, running his right index finger across his upper lip. Albus sat up a little straighter, anticipating the worst.

"I will certainly help if I am able, Severus."

"What provisions do you have over the house in Surrey where Potter is staying?" Severus controlled his voice. It wouldn't do to reveal his hand too soon.

"Standard shielding charms. A few alarms in strategic places to alert me if anyone apparates nearby. There wasn't much in the way of protection I could add that wasn't already there due to the blood wards. Why do you ask?" Severus stared at the table top for a minute more before he revealed his evening. He had never seen the headmaster so anxious and it unnerved him.

"I went to Godric's Hollow as I do every year. A little over an hour after I arrived, I heard a noise behind me. I pulled my wand, but there was no one there. At least, no one I could see. And then a voice spoke. A young voice. And then a concealment charm dissipated and there was a boy. I sent him off straight away, but he pestered on. He stated he walked from where he lived and that his guardians were not with him. And then he pointed to where I was standing and said he was their son. That he was Harry Potter. I saw the scar, Headmaster. It is most certainly him." Severus took his tea back into his hands and warmed it nonverbally. He needed something to anchor him and his frazzled nerves.

"And where is the boy now?" Severus narrowed his eyes and turned his head to look at the headmaster.

"He is safe for the moment. How could he have been able to leave the wards surrounding his home?" He knew the answer.

"He is not restricted from leaving the property, Severus. It would make it impossible for his family to go anywhere with the restriction. He could not attend primary school if that were the case."

"Indeed. I shall rephrase. How could he have been gone for three days and no one know? Not even you?"

"I never considered the possibility of that happening, I assure you, Severus. What are you going to do with the boy?" Severus internally scoffed. Of course it would be his problem.

"Tomorrow is Sunday, so I shall take the boy back to his home. I will stress that he is to remain there."

"And his memories?"

"You cannot be serious Headmaster. He is merely nine. He will know of our world in two years' time anyhow."

"I suppose no harm shall come from him knowing of our world this soon. As you say, it will only be two more years until he is here. Should you need any assistance tomorrow, do let me know."

"Of course Headmaster." Severus placed his teacup on the desk and stood. He bowed once toward Albus and walked out the door.

Severus took the stairs at a relatively slow pace. He used the time to look for wayward students and to let himself think. Mostly the latter. Something about the boy's appearance unnerved him. The fact that the boy had been invisible at the start worried him, but explained how he was able to walk all that way without trouble. He made it to the dungeons without seeing a single student and he allowed himself a rare smile. His reputation was holding up quite nicely thank you very much. He opened the door to his private quarters and held his breath. He wasn't sure what he was going to walk into with an unsupervised child running around. He let out the breath as he closed the door. There, right where he left the boy, was Harry Potter. He was sleeping soundly curled in the corner of the sofa, tangled slightly in the throw blanket Severus left him. Severus walked over and slowly untangled the boy, turned the fire down in the fireplace and went to his own room.

* * *

He woke to the smell of bacon cooking and wondered for a moment where he was. He took a mental tally of the night before and was unable to conclude the smell. He opened his eyes and knew he was in the dungeons of Hogwarts, and it still didn't explain the smell of food cooking. He stood and put on his robe, curious to what he was going to find in the outer rooms. He almost allowed a smile to play on his lips when he saw the nine year old on tip toes flipping bacon and scrambling eggs simultaneously. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed at the chest and his right ankle crossed over his left. He waited until the boy had portioned out the plates and cleared his throat. To his credit, the boy didn't jump. He merely stilled his motions and slowly turned to face Severus.

"Good morning, sir. I… I… uh… I made breakfast. I hope that was alright." The boy lowered his head a touch, but kept his eyes on Severus. Severus twitched his lip in an attempt to hide a smile.

"It is…most appreciated." The boy lifted his head and beamed a smile at Severus. He then immediately set to setting the plates on the table and stood with his hands behind his back, waiting for Severus to seat himself. Severus gave a nod and pushed off the wall. He then walked over to the table and held his hand out, inviting Harry to sit first. The boy's eyes widened and then he immediately sat down, his eyes cast down once more. Severus narrowed his eyes at the boy and then looked at the plates. His own portion was twice as large as the boy's. The plate in front of Harry had the smallest slice of bacon, while Severus himself had four. The bulk of the eggs were on Severus' plate while the boy had a mere half an egg's worth. With lightning reflexes, Severus switched their plates, allowing a small smile when the boy gasped.

"Eat up, Mr. Potter." The two were having a standoff on who was going to eat first, but Severus had much more practice and the boy was far too used to complying with adults. Harry tentatively took his first bite and visibly relaxed. Severus relaxed as well and began to eat, watching the boy between bites. Severus finished his small meal, but sipped his coffee rather slowly to allow the boy more time to eat. He watched Harry force himself to eat after eating half and decided he hadn't really done the boy a favor after all.

"Do not feel you need to clear your plate, Mr. Potter. If you cannot consume more, you needn't have to." Harry bought fearful eyes up to meet Severus' and was surprised to find sincerity in them. He gave the man a small smile and set his fork against the table quietly.

"Thank you sir." Severus gave him a nod, and the boy immediately stood. Severus waved him off.

"There is no need, Potter. You have done enough by making breakfast. I can certainly clean up." With a wave of his wand, the dishes were sent to the sink and began scrubbing themselves clean. Harry looked on in amazement. Severus smirked.

"Sir? How is… I mean, what are…" The boy was looking from the kitchen to Severus and back. Severus stood.

"That is a tale for another time. Come, we have a deadline to reach." He held his arm out and Harry stood, quite hesitantly. He knew what was coming. He did not want to go back. For a few hours, he felt safe, and happy and more importantly Harry felt full. He complied nonetheless and followed the man in black out of his rooms and though a seemingly solid door that shimmered away at the man's touch. Harry looked on in wonder, but kept pace. When they left the gates, the man grabbed his arm and Harry immediately felt the awful pressure and squeezing through the tube. When the pressure stopped, Harry was being held by his shoulders and was facing the ground; in their landing he had pitched forward, but was held back. He began stepping with Severus as they walked toward Number Four Privet Drive. Before the man could walk up the drive, Harry tugged on the man's sleeve.

"I want to thank you for your kindness, sir. You'll never know what it means to me." Harry turned his eyes to the ground so he missed the surprised look on the man's face. Severus placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him up to the door and knocked. Harry cowered as he heard the thumping come down the stairs. Of all the people to answer the door, it would figure it would be his uncle. The door swung open and Harry was shocked to see his cousin's face.

"Mum, he's back!" Dudley yelled, but never turned from facing them. "You're in so much trouble." He whispered to Harry with a smirk on his face. Harry shivered in anticipation. He couldn't even imagine what was going to happen to him. The hand on his shoulder tightened slightly and Harry wished desperately he could climb in the man's arms. In less than a minute, Petunia Dursley made her way to the door, apron perfectly tied to her waist, a tea towel slung over her shoulder. Harry winced, knowing he left the house for her to clean.

"Thank you Duddykins. Why don't you go on over to Pierrs' and bring your new game with you?" She patted him on the head and he smirked once more in Harry's direction and pounded up the stairs, running down seconds later; Harry was impressed his cousin could move so fast. Petunia finally turned her gaze from her son to the people at the door and her face looked menacing the second she saw the two.

"You ungrateful little brat!" Harry was surprised she could sound so ruthless speaking between her clenched teeth. "How dare you come back here?! I thought we were through with you after all this time! You make this nice gentlem…" It was then that Petunia lifted her penetrating gaze from Harry to the man Harry didn't even know the name of. Her eyes turned even harder. Severus' hand never left Harry's shoulder; in fact he pulled the boy a little closer. He nodded once to her.

"Tuney." Harry wished he could have laughed. As soon as the man said the name, his aunt looked as if she could spit fire, she was so angry. The only other thing she had ever been called was 'Pet' and Harry always thought she hated the nickname his uncle called her when he was in a particularly good mood. She took a deep breath and Harry figured she was steeling herself to not haul off and smack the man next to him.

"Do not call me that deplorable name! Well, give me back the brat if you must, and then be on your way. I do not need the neighbors to see you dressed in your freakishness and question who you are. Now go!" She reached out toward Harry and Harry was certain the man was going to slap her hand away.

"Not so fast. It is quite impolite to not invite me in, don't you think? My, where have your manners gone, Tuney?" Severus kept his hold on Harry and stood stock still. Harry could see his aunt seething and he was torn between cheering for the man beside him and cowering from his aunt. She poked her head out the door and looked up and down the street.

"Well, come in if you must. Just don't touch anything or get comfortable. You will not be staying." She stood back to allow them entry and Severus walked in first, still keeping an arm on Harry's shoulder. Petunia closed the door and locked it and showed them to the family room. She stood as far away from them as possible while still remaining in the room and crossed her arms over her chest. She was tapping her foot on the carpet, clearly impatient and wanting both interlopers out of her house. Harry kept taking glances at his cupboard, knowing where he was headed after the man left. The man kept his eye on an unaware Harry and decided to stir things up. Severus took a seat on the sofa and pulled Harry to sit as well. He smirked as he saw the hate in Petunia's eyes.

"This can take as long as you'd like, Tuney." Severus extended his arms and pulled his sleeves down, wiping away invisible lint and doing all he could to irritate the woman. Harry was quick to check himself. He was in awe of the man and was close to letting his jaw visibly drop. Petunia tapped her foot a few more times and sat in Vernon's chair at the very front of the seat. She crossed and recrossed her legs, impatient to be finished with the situation.

"You are the one that stormed my house. Speak your peace and then be gone from here."

"How long was it before you noticed young Mr. Potter's absence?" Severus leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His left arm stayed free, ready to snatch Harry if need be. His right hand cradled his chin. His eyes expertly darted around the room, noticing no sign that Harry ever lived there. He doubted anything was removed after the boy disappeared. Petunia began to fidget and Severus suppressed a smile. It was all so simple.

"The very next morning, I assure you." Harry snorted and Severus raised his eyebrow at him. "Don't make those kind of noises, you spiteful little heathen!" Severus cut her a glare, but looked over at Harry.

"You doubt it was so soon?" Harry brought his eyes up to see Severus focusing clearly on him. He cut his eyes to his aunt and she was shooting daggers his way. "Do not concern yourself with your aunt. Answer my question." Harry looked from his aunt to the man beside him. He had to do what he said. The man was much scarier than his aunt.

"I don't doubt it sir." He started out talking low, but as the man watched him, Harry felt encouraged. "I have to make everyone breakfast and clean the bathrooms in the morning. I figured she would know first thing that I was not here." Harry cut his eyes toward his aunt and immediately looked down. Severus placed his left hand on Harry's arm.

"And did you take any measures to try and find him?" Petunia had the decency to look down, but instantly she looked back at Severus.

"He's back, so what does it matter? I knew the boy would return unharmed. He is always doing something he shouldn't and nothing happens to him." Severus took a deep breath.

"Mr. Potter, would you please go to your room. I will come and see you before I depart." Harry stood up and wondered what he should do. He couldn't go to the cupboard. The man would watch him and he would know how unwanted and disgusting he was. He couldn't stay where he was. He would look foolish. Petunia took matters into her own hands.

"Just go upstairs and do as you're told. Now!" Harry looked confused for a split second and then turned on his heels. He got to the stairs before he was stopped.

"I think I will escort Mr. Potter to his room. I will return momentarily." Severus stood and Harry's eyes widened slightly. It gave Severus all he needed in answer. Harry turned his eyes to Petunia and with a swift movement while Severus had his back to her, she motioned to the right and put her finger to her lips. He jumped when Severus layed his hand on Harry's shoulder and allowed the man to follow him upstairs. When they got to the top of the stairs, Harry hesitantly reached for Dudley's doorknob and Severus opened it for him. He guided the boy into the room, took one last look to ensure Petunia was not eavesdropping and closed the door behind them. Severus took in Harry's posture and decided to give the boy a reprieve.

"I am aware that this is not your bedroom, Mr. Potter. I had my reasons for asking you to leave the room, however. I would like you to remain here while I speak to your aunt. I will return before I leave." Severus opened the door, expecting to see Petunia perched on the other side, or dashing down the stairs, but she was not there. He turned to Harry, gave the smallest hint of a smirk, and left the room.

Harry was unsure of what to do with himself, so he stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets. He wanted desperately to open the door and try and listen, but knew better than to get caught. He looked around the room and felt even more disappointed. Every shelf in the room was covered in toys and games, and the closet was slam full of brand new clothes. A lot of them still had the tags on them. There were piles of dirty clothes covering the floor and the sheets were half off the bed. Harry shook his head. It was frustrating for Harry, who lived in a small cupboard that was spotless and still his cousin got the attention. He stood for a few minutes when he heard footsteps coming back. He stood patiently, but no one came. He heard voices, but couldn't make out any words. He hung his head in anticipation and another few minutes passed before the door opened slowly. Harry lifted his eyes and saw the man in black had, indeed, returned. Just like he said he would. Before Harry could speak, the man curled his index finger and called Harry to him. Harry obliged, walking with his hands still in his pockets. He followed the man in black across the hall and into another room.

"This is Dudley's second bedroom." He didn't even realize he spoke until he heard the man in black scoff.

"Correction, Mr. Potter. It was, though why a boy would need more than just the one, I shall never know. This is now your room, to do with what you would like. I have spoken to your aunt and she has assured me that you will not be thrown out of this room, nor will you ever go back into that dreadful cupboard. Now, I haven't much time, but I shall tell you one thing. You are a wizard. All the things you have watched me do is magic. Yes, Mr. Potter it does exist. I shall leave this parchment with you. I have the match. If you need any help, or have any questions, feel free to write. I will answer when I am able. When you turn eleven, you shall leave all of this behind for the school year and you will learn to control your magic. This book will give you an insight to everything. Now then, is there anything you need of me?" Severus knew he was speaking quickly, but he needed to get through this as quickly as possible. He needed to get back to school and assess everything he now knew. Harry's head was spinning. There was so much information coming his way he had no idea where to begin his questions. He settled for the obvious.

"I haven't a pen to write with." He spoke low so as to not anger the man. Severus rolled his eyes, but pulled a long feather out from his pocket.

"It's a never-out quill. You needn't ink and the tip shall never break. I meant what I said. Anything you need, I am but a few lines away. Now then, are you set?" Harry nodded. There was a knot in his stomach and his throat was clenched as he watched the man walk away. Just as the man was about to disappear down the stairs, Harry called out.

"Wait." He wanted to kick himself. His voice was just above a whisper. He couldn't bear to call out again. He knew his voice wouldn't be any louder. He turned from the doorway and stood at the window, hoping to see the man as he left. He jumped when he heard a throat clear behind him. Harry turned slowly to find the man leaning on the door jamb, arms crossed at his chest and his left ankle hooked across his right.

"Yes Mr. Potter." Harry swallowed a few times and took deep breaths. He didn't want the man angry for coming back for nothing.

"I didn't catch your name, sir." Harry lowered his gaze an instant later, regretting the sudden outburst calling the man back. The man smiled a small smile that looked odd on his face. He stepped into the room and took Harry's jaw in his hands, just like in the cemetery. The only difference was how soft his grip was this time.

"Severus Snape." Harry nodded, his head still in the man's hand. Severus looked him over one more time, gave him a smirk, and then strode from the room. Harry took up his vigil at the window. He wanted to watch the man leave. He waited a few minutes, and then saw the man exit the house. The man then walked across the street to a tree, stood behind it and stood for a moment. Harry tilted his head to the side as he saw the man give a semblance of a wave and then he disappeared altogether. Harry blinked his eyes to be sure it wasn't a trick. He then sat on the newly furnished desk and looked at the parchment the man left him. Harry took the quill awkwardly in his hand and tested it. He painstakingly wrote two words. The second he was finished, they disappeared. He smirked. It was much harder than it looked using the bird feather. He nearly fell over when words appeared on the parchment.

_No thanks are necessary, but I appreciate the sentiment. Your penmanship is deplorable, however, and I would like for you to practice when you are able. Use a separate sheet, mind you. Look at chapter four in the book I gave you. It will teach you the basics of using a quill. The rest is just practice. I trust you are still well?_

Harry was floored. The man actually wrote back? And how did he get to where he was going so fast? He slowly wrote back.

_**Yes sir. I just wanted to thank you. **_

_Very well. Do continue to practice._

_**Yes sir.**_

Nothing came back after, though Harry was sure the man was waiting just in case. He smiled to himself. For the first time in his life, someone had looked after him. He had a fail-safe in case something ever happened. He took up the book and sat on the bed. He began to thumb through it as he heard his uncle come home. He wasn't sure what would happen then, but as long as he had that parchment and quill, he knew he would be safe.


End file.
